My hands are shaking. Now my legs. In fact, my whole body is going into overload. Pressed up against an old mop and a crusted bottle of bleach, I can hear nothing but my own heartbeat. That’s good, I’m alive. I’m alive. For now. My fingers dig deeper into the cool, silver trigger of my gun; the only thing besides this flimsy cupboard door protecting me.

Footsteps. I hear footsteps. Are they coming my way? Yes. Yes, they’re getting louder. Faster now. More urgent. I tighten my grip on the trigger so that I can feel my fingers slowly losing blood. I can deal with a dead finger so long as my heart keeps pumping. The footsteps have stopped now. That can only mean one thing. It’s go time.

I kick the door down more easily than I should have probably been able to and delicately press my gun against the back of the man in front of me’s head. Tall. Solid build. Dark hair.

“Don’t. You. Dare. Move.” I say, making sure each word is clearly annunciated.

“Drop the gun;” he says in a low, gravelly tone mixed with something that sounds suspiciously like familiarity, “I’m here for you.”

I can’t help it. I’m too curious. I carefully circle him with my gun pointed directly at his head at all times until we’re face to face.

I don’t recognise him at first, time will do that, but when he looks me in the eyes I know it’s him. Still the same deep green eyes that could make me feel every emotion known to man, could make me laugh, cry, kill. He’s cut his hair back a little bit, he used to have it military regiment short, I guess his new line of work is more relaxed about things like that, I can also see the black outline of a tattoo crawling up his neck. He never had that before. He’s changed, but I guess I have too.

“Nick? Nicholas, what the hell!” I whisper, lowering my gun, “I’m in the middle of a job if you couldn’t tell! So, whatever this is, go away and find me somewhere else where I’m not as likely to shoot you!”

“As likely? But still kind of likely?” He smirks, his head tipping down so that his hair covers his eyes.

“Please,” I plead, “Just tell me what you’re doing.”

“I’ll kill him for you,” he takes a step towards me “It’s my fault you’re in this mess and I’m going to help you get out of it.”

“I’m perfectly capable of handling things myself.”

“I have no doubt about it. However,” his eyes look straight into mine and almost pierce my soul, “I will be taking this from here.”

“And why’s that?” I ask, genuinely curious.

He laughs, slowly prying the gun from my fingers and leaning down to my ear to whisper, a smile breaking out across his face, “Meet your new boss.”